The Sunny was loud with laughter and sea wind, the kind of afternoon where nothing important needed doing and everyone was bored enough to start trouble on purpose.

Zoro was the target.

It started harmlessly. Sanji leaned against the rail with a cigarette, smirking. “Oi, moss-head. Ever notice how your girlfriend looks at you? Like you’re the last bottle of sake on the ship.”

Zoro didn’t even open his eye. “You’re imagining things.”

Usopp snorted. “Oh come on, I’ve seen Sea Kings show more emotion than you. There’s gotta be something that makes you blush.”

Nami crossed her arms, grin sharp and dangerous. “If there is, we’ll find it. For science.”

Robin watched from her chair, chin resting on her hand. “Human reactions under emotional pressure can be… fascinating.”

Zoro sighed, finally sitting up properly where he’d been dozing against the mast. “You’re all wasting your time.”

They tried everything.

Sanji exaggeratedly complimented his muscles. Nothing. Usopp made up an increasingly ridiculous story about Zoro secretly writing poetry. Zoro threatened to stab him—still nothing. Nami leaned in close and whispered something meant to embarrass him. Zoro just raised an eyebrow. Even Robin dropped a softly spoken, carefully chosen line that would have undone most men.

Zoro remained infuriatingly unfazed. Stone-faced. Solid. Untouchable.

From across the deck, you had been watching the whole thing with quiet amusement, arms folded, eyes warm. You knew him better than anyone here—knew the difference between what didn’t affect him and what absolutely, devastatingly did.

When the crew finally groaned in defeat, you pushed yourself off the rail and walked over.

Zoro noticed you immediately. He always did. His posture shifted just a little, attention snapping into focus even though his expression stayed neutral.

“What?” he muttered.

You didn’t answer right away.

Instead, you stepped between his knees where he sat on the deck, close enough that the noise of the ship seemed to fade. You reached out, one finger sliding under his chin, gentle but unmistakably intentional, tilting his face up toward yours.

That got his attention.

His eye widened a fraction. Breath paused. Muscles went rigid like he’d just been hit with something he didn’t know how to block.

You leaned in—not kissing him, not touching anywhere else—just close enough that he could feel your breath, close enough that there was no room for escape.

And then, softly, deliberately, in a tone meant only for him, you said

“My good boy.”

The effect was immediate.

Zoro froze completely.

Color flooded his cheeks so fast it was almost impressive. His mouth opened, then closed. His brain clearly attempted to reboot and failed. The legendary swordsman who could stare down emperors of the sea was suddenly staring at you like he’d forgotten how language worked.

“…I—” He swallowed. Hard. “…What?”

The crew went silent.

Then exploded.

Sanji choked on his cigarette. Usopp pointed, screaming. Nami cackled. Even Robin’s lips curved in rare, genuine delight.

Zoro finally snapped out of it enough to realize he was being watched, groaning as he dragged a hand down his face, still red. “Tch—damn it,” he muttered, refusing to look at anyone but you.

You smiled, thumb brushing his jaw just once before stepping back.

“Told you,” you said lightly, glancing at the others. “You were just doing it wrong.”

Zoro stayed exactly where he was, thoroughly blue-screened, while the crew learned an important lesson—

Everyone has a weakness.

They’d just found his.